


I Look Good in Stripes

by BlueFruitLoops



Series: Reddie Days [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Gay, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Post-Canon, eddies mom is a bitch, gay shit, reddie gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24337993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFruitLoops/pseuds/BlueFruitLoops
Summary: Thanks to Eddie’s mother, Richie finds himself behind bars... Eddie can’t possibly let him stay there.TW// mentions of & references to rape/sexual assault
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Reddie Days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757074
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

"Richard Tozier has been arrested for the sexual assault of best friend Eddie Kaspbrak." The TV stated loudly through the speakers in Eddie's living room, struggling to project over his sniffles. Mrs. Kaspbrak tutted. 

"Finally. He should pay for what he did to you," she scolded. 

"He didn't do anything, mom!" Eddie screamed at her, watching the police pull Richie into their car on the TV, Richie's head bowed obediently. Eddie's heart wrenched in hatred and sadness. Richie didn't deserve this, and he was taking it so well. They weren't quite sure how Eddie's mother had found out, and he'd denied it completely for the first week, but he gave up after that. 

"He is a dirty, dirty boy and you shouldn't have even been talking to him anyway. It's just as well he finally did it. He's gone to jail now, and you had better stop worrying." She left, headed to the kitchen. Eddie screamed, throwing his water glass at the door and watching it shatter into pieces. He sobbed, wishing he could curl up and die. He paused. 

Finally, something snapped inside of him. Eddie stood up, wiping his eyes and throwing the pillow he'd been crying into on the floor. 

He stomped into the front hall, putting his shoes on and turning to the door. His mother was standing there, all two-hundred-plus pounds of her, frowning down at him. 

"Just where do you think you're going?" she asked. 

"I'm going to see Richie. And if you have any ounce of brains in the trillion ounces that make you up, you'll get the hell out of my way," he spat bitterly, using all the willpower he had not to punch her in the face. She frowned, getting mad. 

"You take that back, you sick little queer, or you'll never leave the house again," she yelled. Eddie, in a fit of rage, shoved her aside with all his might, slamming the door open and walking out. 

"I'll never need to leave again if I never come back again," he said, and his mother stood up, rushing after him as fast as she could. The tears came—these were always her last resort—but this time, they wouldn't work. Eddie had lost every shred of respect and of love for her, at least in that moment, and he ignored her wails completely, getting in his car and driving off to the jail. 

He didn't know when visiting time was, but he swore to himself that no matter what they said, he'd have to see Richie every day at that time. He drove the long ride to the prison, stopping at the front gate to ask the people there when visiting hours were. They recognized him, no doubt. 

"Why do you wanna be here? Isn't that guy who r–" 

"Don't fucking say it!" He yelled, sniffing and cursing his mother under his breath. The guard cocked an eyebrow, but answered nonetheless. 

"It's in one hour, sir. I suggest you go ba–" 

"Is it okay if I wait here?" Eddie asked. 

"Well, yes, but–" 

"Then I'm waiting here." Eddie smiled, rolling up his window and pulling away from the front gate to park his car nearby. No radio, no books, no nothing, just simply his thoughts. They were loud enough on their own. What if Richie was mad at him? He frowned, hoping it wouldn't happen. Had it been rape? He had said yes, hadn't he? 

Yes, Eddie reasoned. Yes, Richie said 'may I', and I nodded. Yes. That means yes. 

And how the hell had his mother found out... Oh. The "evidence" she had was a condom wrapper (ew, mom) she had found while cleaning Eddie's room. And the fact that Eddie hadn't been able to walk quite right the day she got back from her trip with "the girls". And then, in court, Richie had admitted to having sex with Eddie—who, since he was still seventeen, was ordered silent by his mother. Talk about "you're ruining my life, mom". 

(Eddie went over these events in his mind, regretting everything)

This had been the final proof she needed. Richie was technically eighteen, so he was older than Eddie... But it was by less than a fucking year. Either way, Eddie's mother had used it to her advantage to get that dirty, dirty boy out of her life and Eddie's since she thought he was making her son "sick" and "bad". 

"Fuck you," Eddie mumbled. He checked his watch and sighed deeply in what felt like relief. Two minutes until meeting time. He got out of his car, locking it and walking nervously back over to the guards at the front. "Can you take me in now? I want to see Richie." He nearly choked in fear as the guard eyes him suspiciously. Where's your inhaler when you need it? Oh yeah... Back at mom's. He inwardly cursed himself and his mother as the guard shrugged and turned around, talking to a different guy. 

"Yeah, go in with him," he replied, pointing to a taller guy, both were fairly buff, and the other guy nodded slightly, not smiling. He was chewing gum, Eddie noticed. He man turned and led him into the ugly stone building. As they walked Eddie asked awkwardly how long he'd been chewing that piece of gum for—an attempt to make conversation. The man told him he'd been chewing it since about when his shift started. 

"Has it... Run out of flavour?" He asked. 

"I guess, but I'm still goin'." The man shrugged, looking down at him in mild confusion. Eddie opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again, realizing they weren't really talking about the gum anymore. 

"Here you are," the man gestured to a room full of walls and chairs. A wide wall of what looked like glass, but was probably much stronger, separated two sides, and there was one guard already stationed on each side of the glass wall. 

"Keep an eye on their conversation, I don't want no threats, no harassment, no nothin gettin by, alright?" he whispered to the nearest guard, hiding his mouth behind his hand and thinking Eddie couldn't hear him. He could, of course, but he pretended not to and blushed in embarrassment. The guards all knew what Richie had been charged with. 

A man dressed in a striped uniform emerged from the door on other side of the glass, and walked to the seat on the far right side, sitting down. Eddie's heart skipped a beat as a guard motioned for him to sit down on the other side from there. She turned the lights on and the speakers, and stood a few feet behind him, watching intently. 

"H-hey, Rich..." Eddie greeted. Richie, with his beautiful freckles Eddie had always admired, smiled softly. It took everything Eddie had not to burst into tears at that moment. 

"Hey," Richie said softly, comfortingly. "Look, I'm not mad. I know what happened, I could see it happening." He pushed his glasses up on his nose, looking down at his hands, then back up at Eddie. The guard frowned in confusion. Richie smiled comfortingly again. "It's okay, Eds." 

The nickname. 

Eddie burst into tears for the third time that day. 

"I-I'm sorry, Richie!" He sobbed quietly. The guard watched, confused. She wondered if she ought to show this to a judge. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so–" 

"Hey," Richie interrupted him. "It's not your fault," he said, laughing a little bit. It wasn't a very humorous laugh, it was one of those laughs that's simply done to try to cover up tears. Richie sniffled softly and wiped his eyes on his hand, shoving his glasses out of the way slightly and looking into a corner of the room. 

"I-it is my fault," Eddie mumbled. "If I had cleaned up better, if-if I had been able to fucking walk–" he stopped short, groaning in embarrassment and looking up weakly at the guard, who now–to Eddie's surprise–had a look of empathy, of sadness on her face. She'd figured it out, mostly. 

"Eds, that would have been really tricky... Not to mention painful, you... I'm fine in here, really." He smiled. "But... How the hell did you get here without your mom killing you?" he asked, trying to shift the subject. 

"Barely," Eddie replied, sniffing and drying his eyes. "She nearly did..." He laughed softly, before grinning. "I-I shattered a glass, though." He laughed louder. Richie snorted. 

"What? Why?" He laughed. Eddie wiped his eyes again, looking down at his hands. 

"She called you a dirty boy, and she said I shouldn't have even been talking to you anyway, so when she left the room I threw my glass at the door," he bit his lip to keep in his raging laughter. Richie laughed. 

"That's so petty!" He shook his head. Eddie groaned. 

"I know. This place sucks, how do you even think right in here?" he asked, looking sheepishly at the guard, who was back to her normal lack of most expression. Richie chuckled. 

"Oh, it's not that bad..." Eddie cocked his head skeptically. "Yeah, okay. You would have killed yourself by now," Richie replied. "And I've only been here a day and a bit. We have to wear these, too." He gestured at his clothes, and Eddie cringed. 

"Hey, man," Richie leaned back slightly in his chair. "At least I look good in stripes," he winked. 

"Oh shut up," Eddie rolled his eyes. "You look good in everything." 

"Aw, Eddie-bear... That includes your mom," Richie grinned. 

"Ew!" Eddie laughed. "Richie, that's gross... Way to ruin he moment," he chuckled. 

"Yeah, thank god you look nothing like her," Richie replied, completely seriously. This made Eddie burst into laughter again. After his small burst of laughter, Eddie's face fell sad again. 

"I..." Eddie began. He bit his lip to keep it from quivering. "I-I wish I could hug you..." He whispered. 

"Huh?" Richie asked, leaning forward to try and hear Eddie talk (although it wouldn't help—the speakers were elsewhere). 

"I-I said I wish I could hug you," Eddie said louder, inhaling a rugged breath and pulling at his brown hair. "I-I'm gonna choke, I left my inhaler at home, I-I'm having a fucking asthma attack, and-and you're not here to h-help me, oh God, oh fuck," he coughed, and Richie stood up knocking over his chair. He couldn't break the glass and he knew it, so he simply placed his hands on it, trying to reach Eddie. 

Richie began to cry again, biting his lip. He closed his eyes to try and compose himself, but opened them again quickly. All he wanted to do was see Eddie. 

"It's okay!" He said over Eddie's gasps for air. The guard looked around, concerned. This had never happened before and she had no clue what to do. "You! Lady!" Richie yelled. She looked at him in disbelief. 

"Yes! Okay, place a hand on his shoulder, not too light, not to hard," he instructed, watching as she did so, looking back to Richie for more instructions. 

"P-please Eddie, listen, it's gonna be okay, I promise, just look at me, okay?" He asked frantically. Him comforting Eddie always worked for his asthma   
(panic)   
attacks, and he hoped this would, too. "Okay, now rub your hand in circles on his back—not too hard—yes, okay, now use your other hand to prop his shoulder up so he's not hunched over, yes, now try and turn him to look at me, you can let him lean on the desk." The guard followed his instructions again, and the other guard, putting back his walkie-talkie watched the scene unfold with curiosity. 

"No! Don't stop!" He yelled. In fear and surprise, the guard placed her hand back on Eddie's back, rubbing wide circles and tapping softly every now and then. "Come on, oh fuck, oh shit, this better work, oh god," Richie muttered under his breath, sitting back down on the stool he'd propped back up, and placing his hand flat on the glass. 

"Eddie, baby..." He said softly, using his pet name, "put your hand on mine." Eddie looked up, his wheezing slowing down. He did as told, staring into Richie's perfect, warm, inviting eyes. His breathing slowed more now, and he was calming down quickly as Richie was telling him it would be okay, that everything would be fine, in a low hum. 

Eddie sobbed again. 

"Thank you," Richie said to the guard, who removed her hand and stood back up, composing herself. The two stayed there, hands touching but separated by the thick window of glass. 

"Your visiting time will have to end in two minutes," one of the guards warned softly, feeling sorry for having to end their time together. 

Eddie took a deep, steady breath. 

"I'll get you out of here. I swear to God, I'll find away, Richie. I love you." He sniffed, tears leaving more tracks down his salty face. Richie smiled. 

"I love you too, Eddie... And hey, it's only seven years," he joked. This made Eddie cry harder. "Shit," Richie muttered. 

"Richie, I-I fucking hate this, I just wanna be in your arms again... If I can't feel your lips or your hands or anything for seven fucking years, I'll go insane, I'll kill myself! Good God," he sobbed. Richie shook his head, letting the tears slip from his eyes. 

"Th-then I'd have nothing to live for," he whispered. 

"I-I just... I want to kiss you." At this point, neither of them cared what the guards thought. Surprisingly enough, however, this just made the guards sadder. More empathetic. They didn't hate Richie or Eddie for being gay... They found themselves hating Eddie's mother for separating them. It was like a scene in a movie, like in a book. One that was real, and in person. 

"One minute," the guard warned, biting her lip. Eddie's heart pounded. 

"Do the rest of the guys know what happened?" Richie asked, and Eddie responded with a simple nod. "Good. Can you take care of my house while I'm gone? My parents left me with it when I turned eighteen to travel Europe... they're not there." He said, smiling at Eddie comfortingly. 

"Y-yes, please... Thank you..." 

"Thirty sec–" the guard began. "Okay, fuck this," she frowned. "You guys have obviously both been victims." The two boys watched her with curiosity. 

"Yeah," the taller man from Richie's side spoke up. "You two better go right on back to court, and you," he pointed at Eddie, "gotta testify. When's your eighteenth birthday?" He asked. 

"A week and two days," Eddie and Richie said at the same time. 

Eddie blushed when he realized how childish it was that he counted down. Richie found it adorable. 

"Right," the woman cut in. "So then in a week and three days, you'll be in court, getting your freedom back." She said, grinning at the boys' gracious smiles. 

"But for now, visiting is over," the woman told them apologetically. Their faces fell slightly. 

"Eddie, come tomorrow?" Richie asked. Eddie nodded. 

"Of course."


	2. Chapter 2

The woman walked Eddie back out to the front, giving him a comforting hug as he left for his car. 

"Thank you," Eddie smiled. She was probably the kindest woman he had ever met. Aside from Beverly, of course. 

"It's no problem. Get a good sleep, okay kid?" she told him, patting his shoulder. He nodded. 

"I will. Have a good day," he waved as he got back in his car and drove it home to Richie's house. He pulled in the driveway, heading around to the back door to feel around on top of the doorframe for the extra key. He had to stand on a chair to reach. He grabbed it and hopped down off the chair, lifting it back to its place. He ran back around to the front and unlocked the door, opening it and stepping in. The house was surprisingly warm, and instead of feeling lonely, it felt comforting. 

He looked around, placing the keys on a small row or hooks by the door. Of course, he had been here before, but he'd been occupied, and it had been crowded. Eddie smiled, making his way up to the bedrooms. Most were clean, but there was one, the one with the double bed, that was a bit of a mess. Yep, Eddie laughed, this is it. 

He entered the room, plopping down on the bed. He grabbed a faded blue Derry elementary gym t-shirt, and brought it to his face, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of the smell of Richie. Eddie chuckled, laying the shirt down beside him. 

His smile faded quickly when he thought of the situation Richie was facing. They both were facing. He frowned softly, beginning to cry. 

Fourth fucking time today... Eddie, don't be such a bitch, he thought to himself, sniffing softly. He laughed at himself, and got up off the bed to clean up the place. 

When he finished, it was around eight-thirty, and he hadn't gone home all day since he had stomped out on his mother. Maybe he should go apologize, Eddie reasoned. No. No, he couldn't. Shaking his head, he shuffled downstairs to see if there was anything he knew how to make in the kitchen. There was. He ate a short, filling dinner of macaroni before cleaning up after himself and going back to Richie's bedroom. 

Somehow, because of some pretty bad mental exhaustion, Eddie fell asleep very soon in Richie's bed, not even bothering to change. 

The next morning as his eyes floated open, remnants of sleep clouding his vision, he looked around. With only a very vague sense of familiarity, and very different decor from the entirety of his house, this room felt almost completely stranger to Eddie. He began to freak out, before his brain registered the events of the previous night. He calmed down quickly, relaxing back onto the comfy mess of the bedsheets. 

Slowly, he realized he wasn't falling back to sleep anytime soon, so he got up, checking the clock. Had he really slept a full eleven hours? Damn, it really was eight o'clock. He smiled softly, and headed downstairs to nab some cereal or something from the cupboard. There was nothing. He huffed, moving instead to grab some eggs. There were none. He frowned. 

Eddie made his way over to the pantry to get some oatmeal, or maybe some apple sauce or something. There was nothing. All there was, and he hadn't noticed this yesterday, was Kraft dinner and crackers, and a box of Fruit Loops. He blinked, looking over at the fruit bowl, since he knew Fruit Loops were not the healthiest. There was an old banana and a bruised-up apple. He sighed, shaking his head. Richie obviously didn't take care of himself too well. 

He couldn't believe he hadn't had the chance to see it before now. 

Visiting hours were quite awhile from then, so Eddie headed out to the store to stock up Richie's kitchen. He bought fruits and vegetables, and anything else healthy that he would generally keep in a house. When he returned, he put everything away quickly, and he smiled to himself when it was all in place. 

I can finally make breakfast. 

A week or so later, Eddie had all his documents and testimonies prepared, and since he had so much time just hanging out alone at Richie's house, they were pretty good. He'd revised them over and over and over again, and he felt okay; their court hearing was tomorrow. He had no idea how it had been organized, let alone on such short notice, but he thought it best not to ask. He hated complicated laws and shit. 

It was his birthday, but for now he didn't particularly care. He cared more about getting his boyfriend out of jail and into his arms. They'd celebrate his birthday later. If it worked out. 

He slept restlessly and meagrely that night, going over everything he'd say. His mother was no doubt going to find out, since it would, of course, be broadcasted all over TV. This was Derry. It's not like there was any other news ever. 

The next day went by like a flash of lightning. Eddie had gotten up after a few lonely hours of sleep and paced around the house nervously, poking at but not eating much of his maple syrup and oatmeal. He was sure he would throw up. 

Later, in the courtroom, Eddie barely used his inhaler, which he'd gotten as replacement from the drugstore. Richie watched him proudly as he testified, recounting the whole story as confidently as he could. He surprised the room of reporters with what he said, surprised his mother with the fact that he was saying it and surprised Richie with how confidently he spoke. He ended with "I love you, Richie," and everyone was gobsmacked, as was expected. 

The judge ruled Richie innocent, and while Sonya Kaspbrak sobbed in front of her TV, Eddie smiled the widest smile he'd sported in a long time. 

That night, at Richie's house and this time with Richie, Eddie didn't lose his smile. Over dinner, a meal cooked by Eddie himself, the two couldn't hide their happiness. They feasted themselves on the delicious soup Eddie had made and then for dessert the small birthday cake he'd made the night before just for fun. 

They left their dishes on the table, ignoring them for now. 

"It's good to be back," Richie grinned at his lover. 

"It's good to have you back," Eddie replied, staring dreamily back up at Richie. "I missed you," he whispered. Richie smiled, wrapping an arm around Eddie's torso and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. 

He pulled away, staring down into Eddie's eyes as they walked slowly into the bedroom. Then he grinned mischievously, turning around and dropping them both on the bed with Eddie underneath him. 

"You better watch out for me, I'm a criminal," he winked. Eddie blushed and scoffed. 

"Oh please, the only thing rough about you is the edges of your fingernails," Eddie retorted. 

"Wanna bet?"

**Author's Note:**

> Soo,, this is the first chapter published here from my reddie one shots collection over on Wattpad (@five-feet-apart) where we recently hit 100k reads!!!
> 
> Also yes, I know that probably isn’t how trials work but that’s too much research even for me,,


End file.
